Who's The Daddy?
by Kibble Beast
Summary: Post-TF07: Sam had never expected an after-school detention to be so- well, weirdly eventful. Then again, what does an angry Megatron want with the boy and a DNA test? ;D
1. If Only Sam Had Paid Attention In Class

**This is what happens when you go on a useless trip with your A2 biology class to a university and attempt a DNA replicating practical that doesn't even work. You spend the rest of the day inspired to write a fanfiction, ladies and gentlemen.**

**Point one! : This has a very odd and mixed-up timeline; it's extremely AU, take it as you see it (whatever that nonsensical phrase means). It's definitely post-Transformers 2007, but Sam's still at school- not only that, but our favourite silver commander is at large- Megatron is already resur_rected_, and somebody else is up and about who shouldn't be. You'll find out. ;D**

**Point two! : This _will_ only be a twoshot, at maximum a three. I do not see it being more than a twoshot, myself, but you never know.**

**Anyway, I don't own Transformers or anything fantastic like that.**

**Onwards.**

**Um, there are a _lot_ of implied relations in this. If you don't like such things, run away now. **

**I mean it. I won't be able to save your sanity afterwards. Please don't hate me.**

* * *

Well, that was one direction his life wasn't going to go in. Sam glanced down at his notepad, flicked through to his "Possible Careers" page, and drew a firm (_if slightly wobbly_) line through "forensic scientist".

That had to have been the worst biology lesson he had ever sat/slowly wasted away through.

Ever.

Not only had he not understood what was being discussed, he couldn't even flick notes to Miles, who had pleaded guilty to a mysterious and dubiously sudden stomach pain five minutes into the period. He had been abandoned in the cruel, clinical world of biology, and it hurt. It went against the brotherly code.

No matter, he thought, eyes focussed solidly above the curly head of the droning teacher who thought he was interesting. The man was one of those odious people who only used surnames to communicate, and barked them at you as if you were some kind of dog. That was a point; Mojo would want his dinner very shortly. Sam decided to work out how long it would be before he got home and could feed his loyal and trusty hound. The clock was two minutes and fifteen seconds fast. Thus, if his calculations were correct, the bell would ring in less than two minutes and fifty seconds. Let it not be said that the mind of Sam Witwicky was inert and lazy!

Forty-six.

Sam sighed heavily.

Forty-three.

Perhaps, Sam thought, he should spend the time wisely. This seemed like a fine idea, so he twirled his biro and began aimlessly doodling whilst staring at the dastardly clock.

'Witwicky-!'

He was jolted from his dreamy reverie with a horrified shock, hastily blinking and trying to appear a studious and passionate student. He coughed, attempting to get his voice to work. 'Sir?'

'Did you hear me?' Curly-head asked disapprovingly, his eye-jarring green suit violating Sam's eyes and causing possibly irreparable damage.

'Yes,' Sam answered immediately, then realised that that was probably the worst thing he could have said. No doubt Curly-head would make him answer whatever cruel question he had just created. 'Well, I heard you just then, and as you didn't specify on which occasion I had heard you, I feel totally justified in saying that I heard you.'

There was a snickering passing around the classroom.

Curly-head's class-controlling tactic was simply to make Sam look even more stupid. 'I asked you how I would determine if you were a criminal, Whetwecky. Never mind,' he added, and Sam caught a sadistic gleam in his eyes. This was ridiculous; the man _knew_ what his surname was. He was deliberately changing it for his own amusement. This was why Miles and Sam refused to call Curly-head by his real name. If Curly-head couldn't remember Sam's name (_it wasn't hard, just **Wit-wicky**_) then why should Sam remember his? 'Naturally, it really doesn't matter if you're not listening to me as long as you gained something from my lesson. Hand me your pad, why don't we take a look at your detailed notes?'

Sam stared at the paper rigidly, suddenly realising what he had been drawing. Well, this sucked. 'It's- it's nothing.'

Curly-head swooped down upon his desk and snatched up the notepad before he could think of a plan to hide it.

'So _very_ accurate,' the man nodded, wicked grin spreading across his skeletal features. 'I couldn't have done it better myself.'

Sam's face burned in shame.

'Class, see how Witwacky spends his lesson? The world would be such an intelligent place if we all spent our time in education doing this.'

The pad was held up, and slowly turned so that _every single one _of Sam's classmates (_although 'mates' wasn't a particularly accurate term, as it implied friendship or camaraderie_) could behold his drawing.

'Whutwonky would rather be drawing robots!' Curly-head announced to the cackling glee of the evil hoards.

How could he have been so _stupid_ as to doodle Optimus Prime? Not that it mattered, he cautiously reminded himself. Nobody knew about the Autobots (_somehow. Was everybody blind or stupid? They had to be, with Sam around. He just failed at keeping things a secret)._

Sam dared to peek back at Mikaela, who was staring with some _Sam you predictable **idiot **_shock at the picture. Cringing, he returned his hopeful gaze to the clock. Humiliation always seemed to slow time down.

'Whutwucky,' the professor continued, 'Tell me what I should do with you.'

There wasn't any escape from detention, at the very least. What the hell, he wasn't planning on taking biology at college anyway.

'Well, I see that you think you will get admiration from the class if you degrade me further,' Sam pointed out with a shrug. 'You may as well give me a detention for tomorrow.'

'Tonight would be far better,' Curly-head disagreed.

Obviously he wouldn't be told what to do by a mere nerdy loser.

'But sir, my dog-!' Sam protested futilely. 'He needs feeding!'

Trent's hateful tones snaked through the air, immediately igniting a tense tightening in Sam's abdomen. 'He has a _Chihuahua._'

'A Chihuahua isn't going to notice if it doesn't eat,' some other bright spark giggled. 'It's so small it barely even exists.'

Sam's hands clenched into fists, but he took the low blows.

Ah, Mikaela was sitting there quietly. She wasn't particularly finding the torment hilarious, but why should Sam expect her to save him? He had just gone back to being the boy with the weird last name, the one in all of her classes. Why should she stand up for him, risk her entire reputation for the sake of a strange kid? No, Sam didn't expect her to do anything at all- but that didn't stop him imagining it for just one moment, imagining the faces of everybody in the room as the hottest girl of the school took the loner under her brightly-feathered wings-

But they barely spoke. And if they did, Mikaela would ensure that nobody else was around. And if she did, it would only be to ask about the Autobots and what they were doing.

Sam wasn't actually allowed to answer her; he was 'legally bound to secrecy'. The time between their brief 'conversations' was violently increasing- clearly she had better things (_or people- no, no, that was wrong) _to be doing.

The bell rang.

'The bell tolls for me!' Sam cried, accidentally doing so aloud, relief flooding so quickly through him that he nearly imploded.

'No, Woltwookie: the bell is a signal for _me _to end the lesson,' Curly-head snapped, irritated.

Too late, it seemed; the class was already dissipating, thank God. It seemed that Sam's nerdy loser reputation had made the drawing unimpressionable for the class.

'You will stay behind _now_,' Curly-head announced, 'And you will complete the work done in the lesson. You will also perform the practical. I want to see evidence tomorrow.'

'But we haven't even done a practical!' Sam cried, horrified. 'How-'

Curly-head had already left the room. The teenager groaned hopelessly. Great. Well, it could have been worse- it was at least far better to struggle on his own than have the vulture breathing over his shoulder, ready for the kill.

Sam could hear the devil of a man humming to himself delightedly as he sashayed away down the corridor. Asshole.

It would be better to get this over with quickly. With a resigned sigh, he forced the chair backwards and stared at the board.

_PCR_.

Oh. (_Oh, he didn't even know what that stood for_.)

There was a slight gaiety swirling suddenly in his stomach as he contemplated the silent, empty classroom. He was completely alone, and sometimes, that was all he wanted. He might as well try and- he noticed a piece of paper on a desk near the back. Mikaela's desk.

He wandered over to it and, after a glance over his shoulder to check that he wasn't being watched, picked it up.

Her neat, round handwriting clearly dictated everything that he had missed in the lesson.

Well, he'd have to return it to her tomorrow (_clearly she couldn't wait to get out of the classroom and away from the weirdo)_, but for now, this was _brilliant_; he could just copy it down.

Returning to his own desk (_the room may have been empty, but his desk was **his**, and the idea of sitting anywhere else was unthinkable_), he began to scrawl out a hasty copy.

'Polymerase chain reaction,' he announced aloud, scribbling it as he went. 'Forensic scientists can... use this technique... to determine whether a suspect is guilty of a crime or not. It-'

He paused, glancing up suddenly with a frown. He was sure he had heard something, like a- oh, it was nothing.

Just a helicopter.

'It requires a small... sample of DNA,' Sam muttered, wishing his hand could write faster. 'And several ingredients-'

He just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. His cell vibrated suddenly with a warning cry of _'It's over nine-thousaaaaaaand!'. _He checked it: a text.

_Sam, afraid I'm running late. Decepticons have been disturbingly active, and Prime needs a fast Autobot. Make your way home, but be careful. Bumblemeister._

Sam couldn't help but feel a smug pride. Yes, his Autobot was damned fast and _brilliant_.

_'"Be careful"_?' he repeated, snorting slightly. 'Until that moment, 'bee, I was going to be reckless and seek out the Decepticons myself.'

Still, the obvious concern behind the words was reciprocated. Hurriedly, he texted back.

_Bee, you're worrying over nothing. Go show 'em how it's done! Stay safe- I don't have enough money for a new car._

Sam did _not_ like writing in shorthanded textspeak. Well, he just couldn't read it anyway, but in addition, you couldn't shorthandedly text to an Autobot; you'd look like a retard. Optimus Prime would probably think he either was hallucinating, or it was some sort of human code.

Resting the cell on his desk, he returned to his studying, trying to push aside the doomly feeling (_would he ever escape?)_. Where was he? 'Where am I?' he frowned, scanning the paper with a scowl. 'Ah... several ingredients, to help generate further identical copies.'

This didn't seem too hard. Not that he knew what the heck he was writing, but it didn't seem _ridiculously_ hard.

He tried to make it interesting by varying his voice tone. 'The _scientist_ can then _uuuuuuse_ the **replicated** DNA TOOOOO _match_ a-'

Suddenly, he realised what had been bothering him. The helicopter from earlier.

It hadn't passed by the school.

His head snapped up, and he listened intently.

There it was, in the background; a distant thwopthwopping- and what could possibly be the rumbling of an engine. A powerful engine, at that.

_Bee, _he hastily texted_, are the cons near here?_

The reply was alarmingly fast. _Stay exactly where you are. I'll find you._

If Prime had just ordered Bumblebee to get to Sam when he had originally wanted him to pursue the Decepticons, that could only mean- Sam felt a chill spread through his body, and could barely get his fingers to respond. _Still at school._

He was already hurriedly grabbing his bag, not bothering to stuff his pens in (_he could always pick them up tomorrow_), and was about to race to the door when-

The roar was too close, far, far too close.

Sam threw himself over a desk and skidded under another, hoping beyond hope that it didn't know he was here-

And the roof exploded.

No poetic way to put it, really; it just sort of crashed down.

Sam huddled under his desk, breathing heavily and clutching onto his bag as if it would save him.

His shelter was suddenly ripped away, and a monstrous Transformer stared down at him with narrowed red optics.

He shuffled away desperately, but it simply bent down, black fingers curling around his slight body (_oh God, he was going to be crushed if he was held without consideration)_, and straightened, Sam in hand.

Sam wasn't quite sure how it happened, but suddenly he was inside a rising helicopter, and being borne away-

And he could see a bright yellow streak racing in the opposite direction.

Heart and hope sinking into his stomach, he came to the realisation that he wouldn't be saved this time. The Autobots didn't know where he was (_hell, **he** didn't know where he was going_), and they probably couldn't afford to send anybody after him (_they had more pressing Decepticon-ly concerns_).

There was nothing to see up in the clouds. Just white, swirling around.

There wasn't any use in trying to communicate with a Decepticon, he knew. It would probably be better just to not reduce himself and not show fear (_but_ **_damn_**_, was he afraid)_. An impossible task, then, but one which would be his last (_he had to try, didn't he?_).

Eventually, Sam felt the helicopter begin to descend. He peered out of the window once they passed the clouds- a giant building? What was this? He had no idea where it was, certainly. It was surrounded by- well, nothing.

The door opened, and Sam gingerly climbed out, quite wary that he could be attacked from any angle.

As soon as he touched the ground, the helicopter rose and flew off- battered by the air and swirling dust, Sam cringed and raised an arm to defend himself, aware that he was very exposed.

He considered running quickly; perhaps nobody knew he was here-?

The dust settled, and he turned around, assessing which direction would be the best to flee in, and-

Oh, _oh_. There they were.

Two huge Decepticons: one he believed impossible to ever see again, and a skeletal-looking one he had certainly never seen before.

'Ah,' a certain silver giant noticed. 'Here is the boy.'

The ashen Decepticon stared at him unnervingly. 'Thennn we should beginnn.'

Sam scrabbled backwards with a wail. 'I don't know anything!'

Megatron (_he could hardly be mistaken for anybody else)_ laughed. 'Wrong, boy. Very wrong.'

'What- what do you want?' he demanded, heart beating like a drum. Might as well get it over with.

'Well, we have a situation,' the Decepticon explained. 'A very personal situation.'

'Personal? Right, I don't need to hear it,' Sam hurriedly excused himself. 'So I'll just go, find the exit and leave-'

'And die,' Megatron finished cheerfully. 'Aid us somewhat, and you will live.'

'I don't believe you,' Sam stuttered bravely. 'I-'

'Then there is no harm in assisting us, then,' the silver Decepticon reasoned smoothly. 'If you believe that you will die either way, you might as well settle a- a _dispute_.'

'R-right. Is it going to hurt?' Sam imagined the _dispute_ being that of who could tear him to pieces the quickest.

'Not at all. This is the Fallen,' Megatron suddenly introduced, looking rather furious.

'You humansss will allllll diiiiiiie,' the Fallen intoned darkly.

The commander rolled his optics discreetly whilst plucking Sam into the air and dropped him gently onto a huge platform. 'Here is the situation, boy.' From out of nowhere, he produced something small and inert and put it before Sam. '_This_ is a hatchling.'

Sam inspected the body, which was nearly as large as him. 'Being?'

Megatron seemed to find it difficult to say. 'A very young _child_.'

'Woahhh,' the human muttered.

'See,' Megatron declared stiffly, 'there aren't many ways a hatchling comes about.'

Sam's wide eyes stared at the awkward Decepticon, making the whole situation even _more_ inappropriate.

The Fallen was simply smouldering in the background, but luckily Megatron clearly had taken it upon himself to explain everything. 'And-' he grimaced, then continued after bracing himself, 'and we are fairly certain about the manner in which this one- and its fellows- were created. However-' he paused again, requiring a deep ventilation. 'Starscream will not tell us.'

Sam blinked, then continued staring.

'Will you say something, boy?' the commander demanded. 'This is awkward enough without your silence!'

'Won't tell you what?' Sam enquired politely, yet nervously. 'I don't understand what he won't tell you.'

Megatron let out a startling deep wail.

Unexpectedly, the Fallen came to his rescue. 'Who the _daddy _issssss,' he hissed, some creepy face accessories wiggling.

'Who the-' Sam finally worked it out (or at least, he thought he had) and paled. 'I think you've lost me.'

'No,' Megatron disagreed, 'We haven't.'

'But- but if I'm thinking what you're thinking- which I hope I'm not- then it's really embarrassing and wrong and-' Sam froze. 'I have _images_.'

He spent the next five minutes clawing at his head, trying to numb his hysterical mind. Whenever he thought he had recovered (_seven times),_ and had looked back up to the Decepticons, the images came back.

Worse than before.

'This is a dream,' Sam suddenly announced. 'Because this just isn't happening! This is my sick mind, and I'm never reading _Busty Beauties_ again-'

Megatron raised an optic ridge (_incredulously? In confusion? Suggestively? Approvingly? He didn't know anymore_).

'Fine, I believe you!' Sam mumbled unhappily. 'But what exactly am _I _supposed to do?'

'You will perform the practical,' Megatron informed, then saw Sam's eyes bulge. '...Not _that_ practical. You will be able to extract our DNA and _prove_ who the father is.'

'Oh but- what if you don't like the answer?' Sam wavered.

Megatron and the Fallen exchanged heavy, murderous looks.

'Of course I will like the answer,' Megatron answered firmly. 'There is no other possibility.'

'Trusssst me,' the Fallen sneered, 'there isssss.'

'One last problem,' Sam miserably announced. 'I don't know _how_. I wasn't paying attention in class-!'

The Fallen sighed.

Megatron sighed at exactly the same time, but snapped his claws a moment later. 'This will be sad, boy.'

Sam didn't quite follow.

'Luckily for you,' the Decepticon announced, pacing away to a wall, 'we have our own scientist.'

It wasn't a wall at all, Sam quickly realised. It was a door, which opened to a livid shriek.

Megatron disappeared momentarily into the room, then reappeared with a squirming Starscream held by the scruff. The larger mech hissed something into the other's audio receptor, and Starscream stopped struggling, albeit with a panicked air.

The commander dragged his subordinate over to Sam's platform. 'Boy, do you remember Starscream?'

'Y-yeah?' Sam offered.

'Well,' Megatron continued after a pause to find the right words (hopefully without terrorising the boy further), 'he's been rather unfaithful.'

'I hate you _both_!' the Seeker screeched, with a solitary attempt to tug away from Megatron.

The Fallen had a rather sinister smile spreading across his features.

'I hate you more!' Starscream howled, mad optics fixed on the lean Decepticon.

'Oooh,' the Fallen teased, 'how that hurtsss.'

Starscream lunged to attack him, but he was held fast.

'Do you see the problem, boy?' Megatron asked hopelessly. 'The hatchlings are clearly mine.'

'But- just because someone hates somebody _more_,' Sam offered _very_ tentatively (_maybe they had no idea about how these things happened)_, 'doesn't mean that the hated party aren't the father. It wouldn't have any impact on-'

Megatron snarled, and even Sam felt it unwise to continue.

'The boooy knowsss they are minnnne!' the Fallen cried gleefully.

'He does _not_,' Megatron snapped.

'He doessss.'

A surly Starscream was hissing to himself.

This reminded Sam of something. 'So- so right now, what's he doing?'

'Apparently, _everybody_.'

Sam choked.

Starscream screeched in rage and attempted to attack Megatron for the second time. 'Do you think I-'

Megatron brutally wrenched the other Decepticon's arm behind his back, practically forcing him to bend double. 'If you want to retain your arm, I suggest you behave.'

Cringing, the Seeker managed to nod eagerly.

The Fallen scowled. 'Apparently, the Ssssssseeker has a processssssor.'

'He does,' Megatron confirmed witheringly. 'He just forgets about it sometimes. Boy, Starscream is- was-' he frowned, then came to a decision- '..._is_ a scientist. He will help you.'

Sam saw the flaw in this genius of a plan. 'But Starscream doesn't want you to know who- who the daddy is.' That felt so wrong to say. So wrong.

'Yeaasss.'

'So why would he help now?'

The two large Decepticons shared a look.

'Oh, he _willllll_,' the Fallen affirmed.

'Well,' Megatron beamed, 'All the equipment you need is behind you. You should get started, boy. The sooner this is completed, the sooner you will be returned to your Autobots, unharmed.' He released a quietly snarling Starscream with a thrust of his arm and an order. 'Aid the boy.'

Sam gulped.

There really was nothing else he could do but comply.

* * *

**This is for all you lot who wondered where the heck those sparklings had come from in ROTF. I mean, whut. You can't just do that, Bay. Explanations are required or fanfiction will be written. That's like, a law. You left these poor characters to our mercy.**

**Well, just who _is _the father? Do leave me your trusty opinion- and a justification, if you have one (however feeble. xD)! ;D**


	2. There's Something Wrong With The 'cons

**Here we are! This is apparently a story that can be written very quickly. Overall, both chapters have taken me perhaps about... thirteen hours. It may sound like a great amount but it really isn't, especially when it includes severe procrastination, bad singing, and dog-walking.**

**I couldn't help adding the lyrics below in; I can't even listen to that song without laughing or wincing at the sheer _eugh_. I don't even know how I ever first listened to it. I was toying with having some nice Killers lyrics instead, but I'm probably going to insert them into another fic. So you have a beautifully dodgy lyric instead. Sorry about that. Cx**

**Anyway, enough of my rambling!**

**Prepare yourself for innuendo, violence, rudeness and my attempt at writing a replication experiment. In case there are any offended biologists among you, I'm sorry. I referred vaguely to my notes, but Sam wouldn't do it right anyway. Technically, none of this is incorrect.**

**Let's be off. (x**

* * *

_Screaming out the mating call, I become the lord of luuuuuuuuuurve, WOWHHHH! ;D_

Lordi.

Upon reaching his new 'workstation', Sam almost immediately decided that enough was enough. He didn't know what was happening (_and God curse him_), he just had to find out. Damn his curiosity. Leaving his scientific equipment and job at hand, he hopped over the ledge separating he and a sulking Starscream from the 'superior' Decepticons and whistled.

A silver helm turned slowly to regard him.

'Hey, Megatron? Could I talk to you a sec?'

'You have already begun,' the commander noted, frowning slightly but approaching languidly.

'Expression,' Sam automatically responded, the word springing forth from many a confusing encounter with the Autobots. 'Look, you need to give me some help here. I need- I need background, information, y'know?'

'_I _don't know any more than you do, boy.'

Sam had almost expected the alien to explode with rage or deny him completely, but the one thing he hadn't expected (_beside a tearful breakdown_) was a look of deep worry. Perhaps he needed to be more tentative; probe, yes, but gently. 'Tell me what you know,' he insisted. 'Cast your mind back.'

The Decepticon thought for a moment. 'I was dead, and _he-_' (a dirty glower at the reclining-over-a-massive-crate-Fallen) '-was in a coma-like state.'

The human scratched his head, nonplussed. None of this added up. Comas and death didn't make children _(as far as he knew_). 'You must be missing something out.'

Megatron growled in frustration. 'I went after the Allspark, and consequently became- _trapped_ on Earth. Although I could have escaped if I had really wanted to,' he added hastily. 'It would just have been a bother.'

'Naturally, naturally,' Sam agreed.

'...Then I was freed from my imprisonment.'

Sam rolled his hand in a gesture for the mech to continue. 'Then you died.'

'Shut up, boy. I am recalling, not you.' Megatron paused thoughtfully. 'Then I saw Starscream- and the failure he was reminded me of how much I used to enjoy beating him.' The casual statement was so offhand that the Decepticon didn't even pause. One of Sam's eyes enlarged with a twitch. 'And shortly afterwards, you killed me,' he concluded.

'Yeah, whatever. It seems simple to me,' Sam shrugged, nose wrinkling. 'You simply haven't been around for millennia or two. Wouldn't anyone get lonely or bored?'

Overhearing this, Starscream nearly hurled himself at Megatron, pleadingly but tentatively touching his arm. 'It isn't true, my lord-!'

'Evidence _points _to the contrary,' the commander replied without looking at him, ventilating melodramatically, claws flexing.

'Never- never in my Spark,' Starscream wailed, cringing.

'That's the most _pathetic_ thing that has ever come out of your vocal processors. And we know how many pathetic things come out of your vocal processors, don't we.'

Starscream considered this momentarily, then closed his mouth. Clearly a witty response wouldn't have been the healthiest idea.

'Ahhh, I sense demotion approaching,' Megatron suddenly sighed.

The smaller Decepticon was visibly stunned, even stepping back a pace. 'W-what?'

'You heard me.'

'It was probably more of a _woahhh, what the hell_ 'what' than a _sorry, didn't catch that _'what',' Sam added helpfully.

'You can't demote me!' Starscream wailed. 'I've been loyal for eons!'

'So loyal,' Megatron snorted.

'But I've done anything and everything for you- you can't just treat me like waste!'

'That's what _sssshe_ said,' the Fallen remarked smugly.

'Starscream is male,' Megatron snapped witheringly as the mentioned Decepticon miserably mooched away.

The Fallen was genuinely shocked. 'Are you _sssserious_?'

'Of course I am,' Megatron snarled. 'Why the Pit don't you know that?'

'Ssso why doesss it sssshriek?' the devilish Decepticon demanded, still sprawled over his crate but managing to lethargically wave an arm. '_She_ is clearly a femme! And _no_ meccch hassss a body sssshhhape like _that_-'

'He's just a Seeker,' the commander impressed furiously. 'They look special needs. It comes with the heritage.'

'No Ssssseeker femme looksss like that!' the Fallen cried. 'They are _sssssleek_ and _sssssslim_ and-'

'Exactly, you fool; he's clearly a mech!'

'So that'ssssss the way you bendddd!' the Fallen declared triumphantly, slanted optics brightening. 'I knew you hadddd that lookkkk abouttt you.'

'I bend whichever way I choose,' Megatron shouted furiously. 'And it just so happens that Starscream is around a lot of the time! Besides, apparently _you_ bend that way too-'

'All _liessss_!'

'So did you or didn't you?'

The Fallen contemplated the question. 'I didddd and I _didddn'tttt._'

Starscream was staring out of a window vacantly.

'Hey, dude-' Sam waved at him. 'Aren't you- you know, gonna defend your sexuality? Your manhood?'

'No,' Starscream replied with a sigh. 'No.'

'Christ.' Sam realised the depth of the other's despair. 'Well, you are _male_, right?'

'Never been anything else,' the mech responded derisively.

'So-so can you prove it?'

Sam flinched as Starscream's optics _looked_ at him.

'Fleshcreature, what is the point?'

'To defend your pride!' Sam cried loudly.

Megatron sniggered. 'What pride, boy?'

'_No_.' Sam immediately put a stop to the laughter from the two mechs. 'That's mean, and won't help matters. What we need is a nice sit-down. We'll talk all of this through.'

'_Whaaaaat_,' Megatron complained. 'Why the frag would that help?'

'You know, I bet you haven't even discussed this,' Sam accused knowledgeably with a wagging finger and a frown. 'And I tell you something else, we'll be _civilised_.'

'We _have_ discussssssssed thisss,' the Fallen interjected somewhat sulkily. 'The Decepticon way.'

'Oh, you mean like beating each other up? I'm sure that got you far.' Sam knew he had them all sussed: the Fallen rolled his optics in a sigh, Megatron grumbled lowly, and Starscream shuffled. He stared around at them all disbelievingly. 'I thought you lot were supposed to be _intelligent_.'

They all avoided his eyes, suddenly finding interest in the roof, the floor, a cloud through the window-

'_Fallen_!' Sam snapped. 'Optics away from Megatron's backside!'

The elder Decepticon twitched, then hissed. 'I did no suchhhh thing, insecccct!'

Megatron clenched his claws with a dangerous snarl.

'Right,' Sam decided, hastily attempting to avoid a battle. 'I'll take samples of your DNA-' He paused, suddenly hit by a problem. 'And how am I supposed to do that?'

There was a moment of silence before Megatron cuffed Starscream about the helm- the cringing Seeker muttered something about the soft metal of the protoform.

Feeling somewhat like a drill sergeant dressing down some unruly troops, Sam paced back and forth along his table. 'I want you all lined up in front of me.'

After various growls, hisses and rumblings, the Decepticons complied, albeit with a shove from Megatron as Starscream's wing edged into his 'personal space'.

'I can't _help _that,' the Seeker hissed, regaining his place with an angry glare.

At the far end of the line, the Fallen was trying to hide a snigger.

'No _laughing_!' Sam ordered, pointing at the mech aggressively.

As if he was bored stiff of the whole thing, the Fallen's optics resumed the nonchalant inspection of the ceiling.

'You are all in this situation because of your- your libidos,' Sam began, striding before them and staring them down when they dared to look in his direction. 'This is not my fault, before you accuse anything around you. This is not anybody's fault except your own.'

'Untrue!' Megatron disagreed angrily, hurling a clawed hand out in passion. 'How is it _my fault _that my alleged leader goes around-'

'Enough!' Sam snapped, trying to raise his voice to a higher level of that of the mech's. It didn't quite work, but the furious commander actually ceased his tirade, narrowed optics returning to the wall behind Sam.

The teenager continued after a moment's silence, exerting his newfound power. 'Now. Many habits of your race are unknown to me- thank _God_- but as far as I know, it takes two to tango.'

The Decepticons shared bewildered side-glances.

Oh God, he was going to have to say it.

'_Copulate,_' Sam managed to rush out in a wheeze.

'_Tango_,' the Fallen snorted with a hiss. 'Howww doesss thisssss relate to ittt? _Tango_? I might asssss welllllll rettturn to my recharge-'

'Shut up,' Sam commanded. 'I am speaking.' He waited for silence to be restored, and dragged it out for a couple of seconds before continuing. 'All of you are responsible for this.'

Megatron snarled.

'I'll send you out,' Sam warned.

The huge mech huffed, but unbelievably quietened.

'You'll provide me with a sample of your DNA now.'

Oh, never before had he seen such scowls!

Sam snapped his fingers at Megatron. 'You first. You wanted this, so hand it over. C'mon.'

'I'm afraid I wouldn't know how,' the Decepticon declared, optics shuttered in innocence.

Sam didn't believe him for one moment, but decided to move onto the next target. Credit to the mech; Starscream had been the only one to not interrupt thus far. Clearly he had some hidden form of decorum or respect- or perhaps, Sam thought wryly, perhaps he was simply conditioned to not interrupt.

'Starscream, you first. _Megatron_, if you don't know, watch now- just watch now.'

The Seeker's wings twitched uncomfortably. 'I'd rather not.'

So much for that, then. Sam narrowed his eyes. 'Fallen.'

'Too tiredddd.'

The teenager wearily rubbed a hand across his forehead, then walked away, peering over the edge of the table.

Optics watched him suddenly. 'Boy, what are you doing?'

'I'm leaving,' Sam informed, precariously leaning towards the drop. 'Unless I have a sample of DNA within ten seconds, I'm leaving this whole thing. Kaput.'

'This was your idea,' he heard Starscream hiss at somebody from behind him.

And then inspiration struck the human: 'Of course, it doesn't matter how the samples are attained.'

Naturally, any excuse for violence was eagerly snatched up- with no time for as much as an enraged shriek, Starscream was hurled to the wall.

'We are _go,_' the Fallen winked, one of his hands raised and using (_what else could it be_?) the Force to pin the Seeker against the solid metal.

Megatron was already beside Starscream and inspecting his shoulder, joyfully flexing his claws and prodding the armour gently.

'Nononononono,' the trapped Decepticon whimpered, attempting to wriggle away.

'Yesyesyesyes_yes_-!'

Sam watched, slightly uncomfortable with the proceedings- but now at least secure in the knowledge that he did (_for some strange reason_) have a slight power over the aliens (_even though the Fallen and Megatron did seem to be enjoying themselves a little too much_).

Starscream yelped as Megatron's claws penetrated a gap in his armour and proceeded to rip a panel off with much drama (_and no doubt prolonging the suffering as much as possible_).

Sam winced and averted his eyes as the commander continued to peel away with a delighted grin. 'Less of the sadistic enjoyment, please.'

'Yesssssss Ssstarscream,' the Fallen sniggered. 'Stop enjoying yoursssself.'

'Ohoho, what have we here?' Megatron- who had been busy scrutinising the open wound created in the smaller Decepticon's shoulder- was now digging his claws into something and scraping harshly.

This had a far more potent effect on Starscream, who howled in agony- he was released by both mechs and crumpled into a smallish ball on the floor, shaking and clutching his shoulder.

'It's always easier if you comply,' Megatron informed knowledgeably as he returned to Sam.

At that point, the teenager noted a lack of lean hugeness in the room- the Fallen had teleported off somewhere.

'He'll get you his sample,' the Decepticon declared. 'He just won't do it in front of you, the pathetic fogey.'

Sam held out an absurdly small test tube, and Megatron flicked some minute hard metallic ribbons into it.

'What is that?' the human asked, intrigued.

'Protoform,' Megatron explained casually over Starscream's whimpering.

'Equivalent to what?' Sam asked, inspecting the sample with one eye closed. 'Um, flesh? Bone?'

'Do not try to draw parallels between my noble race and your own, mammal.' Megatron snapped. 'Flesh? You insult me.'

'Bone marrow,' Starscream managed a pained gasp from the floor, wings clearly lowered and quivering. 'Pain might be like that of- extraction.'

Megatron rolled his optics, inspecting his right arm as he did so. Sam couldn't help but do the same, awestruck by the gigantic limb. Abruptly, some of the armour began to shift, rippling away from an epicentre. Megatron used his other clawed hand, almost carefully scratching at something within.

Sam tried to stand on tiptoe to get a look at what it was, stretching up as high as he could-

Megatron flicked him fondly, his job finished. 'Hardly _anyone_ should see your protoform, boy.'

Sam tottered backwards and stumbled, falling onto the table. '_Ow_.'

With a deep sigh the alien reached towards him- Sam lifted up another test tube, noting a grimace as Megatron's armour shifted, re-covering his forearm.

'Painful?'

The Decepticon answered with a dismissive snort as he flicked his offering inside. 'Not at all.'

Sam scratched his head with a snort of his own. 'Course not.'

'I am **_Megatron_**.' (_Apparently that meant something._)

'You can still hurt,' Sam shrugged, placing his new sample into his test tube rack.

'That's life. Why complain about it?'

'Nice philosophy,' the teenager remarked sarcastically.

'What would you know about it?'

'Hey, I never asked to be in a war.'

'Nobody_ asks_, insect.'

'I bet some people have a choice.'

'Hm. How much of life is choice, boy? Surely some of it is fate.' Megatron was watching him closely now.

'I'm not getting into a debate with you,' Sam decided. 'Not what I'm here for.'

'Who is to say why any of us are here?'

'Stop it,' Sam warned, pointing a finger. 'Where's the Fallen?'

Megatron sulked for a moment quietly. 'He's resting.'

'Get him back here,' the teenager ordered wearily, rubbing his forehead with the base of his palm and turning away. He headed back over the dividing ledge and began to set up the experiment.

At that very moment the Fallen finally reappeared, scowling. He flicked his sample detachedly at Sam, who somehow managed to catch it before hurriedly dropping it into the test tube.

'Be careful, boy,' Megatron warned with a deceivingly serious expression. 'That's a relic. It's ancient enough to crumble at any moment.'

'Much like its donor,' Starscream added with an amused flick of his wings before returning to the nursing of his shoulder.

The Fallen bristled dangerously, his wiggly appendages _wiggling_. 'Silenccccce, insolent youthssss.'

Sam interrupted the consequential snarls. 'How the hell do you lot ever get anything done?'

'We have a fight,' Megatron shrugged, easily distracted.

Sam repeated the words incredulously. 'You have a _fight_. Of course, why didn't I guess?'

'Whoever comessss outttt on top hasssss the final ssssssay,' the Fallen explained.

Now the teenager was confused. From the limited information he knew about the Decepticons, they were (_fairly_) regimented. 'I thought you had a hierarchy?'

'Oh, we _do_, but we have occasional disagreements.'

'Because you two are idiotic,' Starscream felt brave enough to point out.

'So what are you?' Sam demanded, pointing at the Fallen. 'Where do you come into this?'

'At the very topppp.'

'But Megatron's at the top.'

'I'm on topppp of Megatronnnn,' the Fallen insisted.

'You just making this up?' Sam glanced at Megatron doubtfully for confirmation. 'Playing with me? Toying?'

Megatron looked petulant. 'It's sort of true.'

Starscream was finding something humorous, mouth quirking in a near snigger behind a hand. 'He doesn't like to admit it.'

'Is that because he's _Megatron_?' Sam asked quietly.

'_Exactly_.'

'One last thing before I get on with this,' Sam announced.

'Well?'

'Hurry up,' the Fallen ordered. 'I have important thingssssss to be doing.'

Sam glared at him before turning to Megatron. 'Go over to Starscream and apologise.'

'Why the Pit should I?' the commander hissed.

'Because you hurt him. You could have been far more considerate- I _saw_ the difference in force you used between your protoform and his.'

'I am _Megatron_. I am _not _considerate!'

'You can still treat your soldiers with respect,' the human insisted. 'Now apologise _nicely_. No violence.'

Megatron growled, but stormed away and threw himself down next to Starscream.

The Seeker (_who may well have heard every word of their conversation)_ edged slightly away.

'Wuss,' Megatron scorned.

'Afthole,' Starscream sniffed miserably, still clutching at his shoulder without touching the injury.

The commander clearly wanted to inspect the damage, somewhat gentle claws tugging at the other's hand. A now silent Starscream unwillingly allowed him access.

'That looks rather sore,' Megatron exclaimed sympathetically.

Starscream said nothing.

'Is it _sore_?' Megatron asked lowly, claws edging dangerously close to the still open wound.

'Y-yes.'

Sam almost felt all warm and fuzzy inside at the progress they were making. They were even 'talking' now.

'Oh, did I hurt you? I'm sorry,' Megatron crooned, then abruptly smashed the Seeker's face into the floor. 'Grow up, you snivelling wretch.'

'Woah, _woah_!' Sam cried, hurrying over. 'I said _no violence_!'

'That wasn't violence,' Megatron protested, claws held up innocently as a wide-opticed Starscream coughed gutturally. 'I was encouraging him.'

'_No_, that was violence!'

'I was boosting morale,' the commander argued.

'Whatever, you creep. We're starting again. You too, Starscream.'

Starscream winced as he slowly stood, trying not to move his arm too much.

There was a heavy sigh as Megatron clambered to his feet, grabbing the Seeker's limb and using it as leverage to pull himself up. Both standing, they glared at each other for a moment.

'May I have my arm back?' Starscream snapped.

Megatron tugged it roughly with a snigger- the other Decepticon toppled back onto the ground.

Patience wearing thin, Sam eventually led them back to the line-up and eyed each of them angrily. 'This is never gonna work if you don't try and understand each other.'

'I understand Starscream perfectly,' Megatron insisted.

'I didn't say it was your turn to talk,' Sam overrode.

Megatron returned to a sulky silence.

'You have to empathise and respect each other.' Sam glanced at the silver commander, who had begrudgingly flicked his claws in the air. 'Would you like to speak, Megatron?'

'Evidently.'

With a slightly smug grin, Sam gestured for him to start.

'I understand Starscream perfectly. If I had been _nice_- and I mean _your_ pathetic standard of 'nice'- he would continue to feel sorry for himself.'

'Point made,' Sam concluded, turning to look at the accused mech. 'Would you like to retaliate?'

'With my fist, yes! I have every Primus forsaken right to feel sorry for myself,' Starscream snapped.

'Fallen?'

'Needs his nap,' Megatron cut in nastily.

Sam was about to reprimand the huge alien when he glanced at the Fallen and saw that the odd-looking Decepticon's optics were dull.

'He's recharging. As _ever_,' Starscream muttered bitterly. 'Lazy s-'

Sam clapped his hands together brightly, no doubt interrupting a foul insult. 'Right, ready to go!'

'You aren't,' the Seeker disagreed reluctantly.

The human trusted his judgement, but even after a mental check remained utterly nonplussed. 'What did I miss?'

Starscream was incredulous. 'DNA from the hatchling.'

'Ah, I can see why that would help,' Sam hastily agreed whilst hurrying over to the tiny Transformer. It was still lying on his table and seemed pretty approachable. 'Very helpful, I'll do that now? Actually, maybe I won't because I don't know how. Could some big guy get over here and help?'

The hatchling lunged forwards and bit him.

'_ARGHH!_' Sam attempted to shake it off before realising that it was attached to his arm (_therefore causing him pain_) and heavy(_causing yet more pain_)_. _He glanced around desperately, finding Starscream closest. 'Help, p-please?'

Starscream peered at him for a moment (_perhaps debating whether to save his life or not_) before punching the hatchling; it collapsed into a small pile (_thankfully, after releasing Sam_).

'Did you kill it?' Sam demanded, edging away from them both warily and eyeing the still mound.

'Maybe,' Starscream said thoughtfully, crouching slightly to eye the cretinous child at a closer level.

'Why the hell did you punch it-?'

'It was a hazard to your health.'

'Did you just kill a _baby_?' Sam choked.

'It was going to die anyway,' Starscream shrugged.

'That isn't the attitude a responsible parent takes!' Still staring incredulously at the heap, Sam didn't quite know why he was trying to teach the Decepticon.

'Call me irresponsible, then. I am not a parent.' Starscream softly scratched the tiniest sliver of metal off the sparkling and deposited it into the test tube.

'You know,' Sam suddenly frowned, 'won't that affect the results? I mean, won't that have traces of your DNA on it?'

'It shouldn't do. But what does it matter anyway? Whatever the outcome is, I'm not going to get off lightly.' Starscream glanced at Sam's arm. 'He gave you a rather nasty bite.'

Sam realised with a sudden return to reality that his arm was in actuality throbbing and bleeding. He glanced down at it and cringed (_luckily, not too mangled. Although it did have a nice and bloody crisscross pattern to it_). 'Ow?'

'Nothing broken,' the Seeker concluded, eyeing it closely. 'But-'

'You're dawdling!' Megatron bellowed.

'Just making sure everything goes to plan!' Sam shouted hurriedly, attempting to cover the wound with his hand and then hissing in pain at the contact. 'Ahh, not a good idea, not a good idea-'

Within a second or two, the other two Decepticons were surrounding him.

'Blooddddd,' the Fallen sighed, apparently woken from his impromptu slumber.

'What did you do?' Megatron demanded, staring intently as the red substance trickled slowly to the underside of Sam's arm.

'The hatchling thing tried to eat me,' Sam explained, gritting his teeth against the burning pain.

'Boy, put your DNA in as well,' the silver mech urged suddenly.

'Why? I'm not its progenitor.' (_Sam impressed himself with his vocabulary occasionally_.)

Starscream did look suddenly interested. 'It would be fascinating to compare how your fragments will look compared to ours.'

'Yeah? Fine, then. Pass me that.' Sam hurriedly swabbed his cheek once Starscream had delicately handed him a bud.

'Use the blooodddddd,' the Fallen hissed, excited and shifting about animatedly.

'Uh, no,' Sam snapped around the object in his mouth.

Megatron watched, intrigued as the teenager pouted around the swab. 'I want to prod your soft flesh.'

'I bet.'

'Look at it, swelling and protruding around the swab! You're teasing me,' the commander nearly wailed.

Keeping a vigilant watch on the creepy Decepticon, Sam removed the swab from his mouth warily and dabbed it into yet another test tube. 'Happy now?'

The Fallen was practically prancing about now, waving a stick in the air and chanting.

Megatron and Starscream side-glanced the ancient Decepticon warily.

'Wha- what's he doing?' Sam managed to focus slightly on the absurd situation.

'He's about to try and kill you,' Megatron informed calmly.

'Oh, great! This day is just _fantastic_. And Mojo will be starving!' Sam shouted.

Megatron gestured at Starscream by means of optic ridge.

'Wha-at?' the Seeker whined. 'Why me?'

'Because you're my loyal servant, you idiot.'

With a last unhappy growl, Starscream hurled himself at the Fallen and the two dived about and rolled around in a furious exchange of blows.

'Well, get on with the experiment,' Megatron ordered. 'Starscream is buying you valuable time.'

'But I don't know what to _do_!' Sam wailed, racing over to his 'workstation' and staring unhappily at the varying bottles and solutions.

Megatron rolled his optics. 'STARSCREAM, WHAT SHOULD THE BOY DO?'

'Polymerase and primers!' Starscream howled, currently slamming his palm into the Fallen's chin.

'You afffft!' the Fallen hissed, clawing at the Seeker's side. 'My beautiful long chin, dented!'

Sam pipetted the various substances about into the test tubes, haste making him splurt some of the solutions over his hands. 'Is this stuff dangerous?'

'IS THIS STUFF DANGEROUS?' Megatron conveyed helpfully.

Starscream half-listened- and at the distraction, the Fallen stabbed his weird stick thing through the other's wing to an anguished yowl.

Megatron scowled as the Seeker crumpled to the ground, shrieking. 'Honestly, boy. One hit to those beloved appendages and he's lost.'

'Good to know,' Sam mumbled, haphazardly dropping the test tubes into a machine and closing the lid. 'They should get nice and toasty.'

'I thinkkk you ssssshoulddd attacckkk Megatron,' the Fallen suddenly announced smugly, now sitting on top of the Seeker he was addressing.

Starscream stopped struggling, panting. 'Excuse me?'

Megatron turned to view the stilled brawl. 'I second that question.'

'I'm overriddding hissss order to attackkk _me_. So attackkkk _him_.'

'You can't override my orders!' Megatron growled disbelievingly.

'I can tttoo. Higher rankkk, you imbecile.'

'Technically, your rank doesn't exist,' Megatron sniped.

'Starscream, attackkkk him!' the Fallen ordered.

'Do _not _attack me,' Megatron snapped. 'As you were.'

'Somewhat of a problem there,' Starscream hissed, trapped as he was.

'What is wrong with you?' the commander demanded. 'As soon as you're on your back you're worthless! You're too wide to even try and get up!'

'Thank you for the support,' Starscream wailed, straining to heave the Fallen off of him.

'Enough!' Sam shouted. 'Fallen, _off _Starscream. Get over here, all of you.'

It took them quite a while to comply; apparently the Fallen had decided to take another nap, and Starscream was crushed beneath him. For reasons Sam couldn't fathom, the ancient Decepticon couldn't be woken. In the end, Megatron kicked him away from the Seeker, even extending a hand to help the smaller Decepticon up.

'Glitch,' Starscream hissed at the recharging anorexic whilst inspecting his damaged wing.

'Yeassss,' Megatron agreed, sticking two claws up rudely at the body.

'What was that?' Sam demanded.

'I rather like researching human culture,' the commander explained cheerfully.

'That's not _culture_! That's- that's just cussing!'

'There's no pleasing you, boy.'

Sam decided to try and get back to the point. 'I want you both to promise that no matter the results of the test, you'll cherish the hatchlings and care for them as if they were your own.'

Almost worryingly, they readily agreed.

'After all,' Starscream shrugged, 'we don't care for our own.'

'Oh, I sort of care about you!' Megatron rumbled, looking slightly hurt. 'Who else could I abuse on a regular basis?'

'True,' the Second in Command admitted. 'Who else would be strong enough to take it?'

Sam was pleased that the two had a moment of almost friendly connection before the cynical part of his mind reminded him that having two murderous psychotics for parents couldn't be an overly good thing. 'Why don't the Autobots have any?'

'Any what, boy?'

'Any sparklings, my lord,' Starscream helpfully filled in.

'Oh, come on, boy. Your group of Autobots? Nobody in their right processor would think of reproducing with Ratchet and to do so with Ironhide would end up in explosions.'

'And Bumblebee is just too-' Starscream strangled the air, unable to articulate himself appropriately. 'Infuriating.'

'Too young, for one thing,' Megatron offered.

'Have you been eyeing him up?' the Seeker demanded suspiciously.

'_No,_' Megatron hissed. 'Have _you_? Whilst we're on the subject, I saw you looking at Optimus at Mission City.'

'Of course I was looking at him. Should I fire at my targets without looking at them?'

'I'm sure the Autobots wouldn't mind that,' Sam pointed out. 'Besides, you never gave a reason for Optimus.'

Megatron wrinkled his nasalplates disgustedly. 'Eh? Why would I want to reproduce with my own brother? You sick mammal, I bet you do things like that all of the time.'

'I don't have a brother!' Sam hurriedly cried.

'Then with your sister, your father, your mother!' Megatron continued. 'What do I care for your torrid habits?'

'He's too- too _noble,_' Starscream explained, returning to the subject of Prime. 'Annoying to the point of- _eughhh!_' Again he strangled the air.

Megatron looked pleased. 'See, incest-loving boy. Your Autobots are just ridiculous.'

'You may want to remove the test tubes from the thermal cycler now,' Starscream suggested. 'I modified it so that this pointless experiment could be over as quickly as possible.'

'So it's already replicated?'

'You are viewing a genius,' Starscream informed.

Megatron kicked him affectionately. 'He does love himself, boy.'

Sam returned to his station and opened the machine. His test tubes awaited, full of promise. With a (_for some reason) _nervous gulp, he pipetted a drop of each of the solutions into different wells in a plastic container (_containing a sort of goopy set-liquidy thing_), then breathed a massive sigh of relief. His part was done. 'Can I go now? There's nothing more for me to do-'

'Don't you want to see who the father is, boy?'

'Aren't you intriguedddddd?' The Fallen had finally awoken, looking very vaguely surprised to find himself on the floor.

Sam had to admit he was, and the fragments had already begun to separate- perhaps Starscream had added an accelerant of some sort.

'Shall we place betsssssss?'

'We can't play games with matters like this,' Sam informed stiffly.

'It's not yours,' Megatron snapped fiercely.

'You _know_ it isn't yours,' the Fallen pointed out as the highlighted fragments raced across the gel.

'Not so, old mech. Could be because I was dead,' Megatron declared cheerfully. 'Might not know it then.'

Starscream muttered something very quietly in another language- the other two seemed not to notice and continued arguing.

Sam eyed the fragments, confused. '...I don't see how this works.'

Starscream easily peered over his shoulder. 'Oh dear.'

'In trouble are we, dearest?' Megatron had a look, then frowned. 'How can this be?'

The Fallen glared at the results from the other side of the table- Sam could have sworn one of his optics nearly popped out of his helm in disbelief. Indeed, this seemed to be a concern for the old mech. 'Are my opticcsssss malfunctionnnnning? Those resultssss seem- odddd.'

'Something's _clearly_ gone wrong,' Sam laughed nervously. 'Contamination-'

'How the _Pit_ can _you _be the father?' Megatron howled, stabbing a claw at him. 'You aren't even the same race!'

'Look, I don't know what happened- obviously my DNA somehow got mixed in where it shouldn't have and that messed it all up-'

'You fragged my Seeker?' Megatron bellowed.

Starscream rubbed his face wearily and mouthed an apology at Sam.

'Be realistic!' Sam pleaded. 'How could I have? I'm not even six foot! I haven't even seen any of you since Mission City!'

'No secret rendezvous?' Megatron demanded furiously.

'No!' Sam cried, thankful at last that the Decepticon was seeing sense-

'Then you must have done it _then_!'

'What- no! We haven't done anything at all!'

'Why, this explains those sneaky knowing looks behind my back!' Megatron shouted, then jabbed at Starscream. 'It explains _you_ wanting to come back to Earth! It explains the feeble state of the hatchlings! I should have seen this!'

'You're not thinking straight,' Sam cried earnestly. 'How the hell are we compatible enough? How exactly did I impregnate him? Did I do it with my _eyes?_'

'You impregnatedddd him with your _eyesss?_' the Fallen hissed. 'Foul demon! Who are you to wield thissss power? Where did you learn it? I am intriiiigued…'

'You impregnated him with your eyes,' Megatron whispered in horror, then shouted hysterically. 'Stop looking at me!'

'This _is_ ridiculous,' Starscream pointed out.

'Don't look at him, Starscream!' the commander hastily ordered. 'He'll get you again!'

'Nobody impregnates with their _eyes_!'

'Are you saying that you _did it_ with him?' Megatron demanded. 'Because if he impregnated you with his eyes, that's a different story. You had no choice, there.'

'When do I ever have choice?' Starscream's rapid processor worked out the least painful option. 'It must have been the eyes, my lord.'

Sam caught a sympathetic wince sent in his direction.

'That's _it_!' Megatron roared. 'We're going back home and _massacring _the hatchlings; no army of mine will be half-fleshling!'

'Hoorah,' Starscream cheered, genuinely excited. 'Massacre!'

'Then we won't have a future army,' the Fallen pointed out wisely.

'There are _ways_ to fix that problem.'

Sam didn't miss the meaningful glance this time.

* * *

'So that's why I'm late,' he told Mojo, using a small plastic shovel to dole out the appropriate amount of kibble. 'Just a load of misunderstandings and stuff.'

Mojo seemed inclined not to care; indeed, beyond sleeping the entire day away, no significant change had been made to his routine. Generally, his young master's arrival from school would wake him up and then Mojo would follow him around for a while until dinnertime. Nonetheless, the dog wasn't bothered. This lateness just meant that he seemed to get his dinner more quickly- an illusion he was happy to live with.

''bee!' Sam roared suddenly. 'Off the grass! _Dadwillbehomeanyminute!_'

Mojo watched the odd yellow car suspiciously for a moment through the kitchen window before barking authoritatively.

Yes, he scared that vehicle away back to the drive. It was even blaring something through its speakers in fear, no doubt warning off others of its kind.

'You are _not_ handing me over to Ratchet,' Sam continued. 'My arm is _fine_.'

Mojo's beady eyes watched every move the boy made. Held by a hand, his food dish was currently flying through the air expressively.

'See? I can move it and everything. And besides, if there _were_ a problem, I'd go to a doctor. And don't give me that 'Ratchet is a doctor', Mom would kill me.' Attention was returned to Mojo, as it should have been. 'Gee, Mo. After everything I've been through, I just can't help feeling guilty.'

Mojo stared at the food dish before reluctantly turning his gaze to Sam and yapping commandingly.

'Yeah, I _know_ they're evil and all, but still.'

This happened a lot, sadly; the young master seemed to have conversations with thin air. Perhaps he was insane, Mojo thought briefly. Then his food bowl sailed through the air and was placed on the floor. All thoughts lost, the Chihuahua hastily bounded to the ground via stool and slipped across the tiles to crunch on his dinner. _OHITWASGOOD._

As he watched Mojo devour his food, Sam felt relief spread through him: life was normal again, at least for now. But no matter how normal it was, he knew he wasn't going to shake the feeling of _woah_ if he ever saw the Decepticons again- saying that, how was he supposed to face the Autobots? His own problems aside, Sam couldn't help feeling sorry for a certain Decepticon.

He was sure it was going to be a long night.

* * *

**And that, I feel, is that. ;D**

**IT'S A TWOSHOT. I'm very pleased with myself; this is only the second fic that I've actually finished.**

**Thank you to my good pal _colourfulchatterbox _for getting my semi rolling. (: And indeed, cheers to all you people who have favourited, and thanks especially to the reviewers- you honestly can't understand how important a review is until you write things yourself.**

**I hope you enjoyed the ambiguity. xD No, I couldn't make the Daddy Decision! I may well have done in my head, but it's staying firmly there. ;D We'll leave the call to Bay, if he's not too busy exploding something.**

**So long and goodnight! Cx**


	3. It Couldn't Get Any More Awkward, Right?

**Weeeeeell I **_**had **_**finished with this, truly I had! Blame Anon for giving me plot bunnies concerning the Autobot's reactions. C; You prodded the beast, mate, and the beast kibbled back.**

**Ahh, I hate-love how awkward this is. Poor Sam.**

**Sweet Kibble-followers, I had hoped to be returning to you with a bigger fiction (Suffering in Silence/It Isn't Every Orn/How To Take Care), but I've just lost about fifteen thousand words of said fanfictions. Yes, it hurt. Yes, I'm still shaking my fist at the ceiling and howling at the moon etcetera etcetera. No, they can't be found. No, oddly enough I don't have paper copies. **_**FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU**_

**Life goes on, however! I shall try to remember aforementioned lost work and get it out as quickly as possible without compromising quality lulz. I predict I should be back on track by the end of this month. Thus I'm afraid it's a small offering of merciless sanity bashing lunacy to ease you and I back into Kibble-land! **

**Hope you enjoy. C:**

**(And a MEGAthank you to all of you anonymous reviewers who I can't respond to! You're beautiful, period.)**

* * *

_If you were gay, that'd be okay- because you see, you're dear to meeeeeeeeeee._

Avenue Q.

Optimus frowned.

'What?' Sam asked.

'Something strange happened a couple of orns ago.'

'Well?' Ratchet demanded.

'I was merely standing on this very hill- regarding the land about me in a noble fashion- when some emaciated Decepticon appeared before me.'

'And?' Ironhide growled, cannons already glowing (_Sam believed that certain keywords subconsciously onlined said weapons_).

'He simply stared at me.'

'Didn't say anything?'

'No. Just stared intently. One of his optics almost bulged in intensity.'

Sam laughed.

'Not at all amusing,' Optimus protested. 'Why would he glare at me so? I have done nothing!'

'Did _you_ say anything to him?'

'I did enquire into his health.'

Ratchet snorted. 'Only you.'

'Well, I presumed he wanted something from me,' Optimus protested. 'I thought maybe he was too shy or socially inept to begin a conversation.'

'Come on,' Ironhide snorted. 'He was a Decepticon.'

'Do you know Sam, he rasped the queerest thing,' Prime mused. '"Tell your boy 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth- an eye-rape for an eye-rape'".'

Sam blinked, then laughed awkwardly. 'Er, proverb?'

Ratchet frowned incredulously. 'Including the latter?'

'Ab-absolutely,' Sam nodded. 'Eye-rape was a- a dangerous technique employed by ninja.'

Ironhide spoke up. 'There is absolutely no reference to 'eye-rape' in any records I can find.'

It was somehow easy to forget the Autobots were highly advanced. 'Well- Decepticons are a bit psycho.' Sam was suddenly struck by something. 'You- you said emaciated? You mean skinny, skeletal, gaunt? Wasted? Thin?'

Optimus inclined his helm.

'Did- did he speak really weirdly?'

Another inclination.

'With loads of hissing, grunting and _dttttttttttt_-ing?'

'Rather emphatic, yes. You've met this chap before!' Optimus deduced.

'Ye-aha,' Sam confirmed. 'He was one of the 'cons I met the other day.'

'I've certainly not seen him around.'

'Nor I,' Ratchet wrinkled his nasal-plating. 'But he looks like a fool.'

'Agreed,' Ironhide added. (_Sam assumed that they were sharing images_.)

'Ah know everybody!' Jazz cried, bounding out of nowhere. 'Show yer ol' Jazzeh!' He paused for a split astro-second. 'Nah, who's this loser?'

'Er, the Fallen,' Sam mumbled articulately. 'Ah. Why don't you know about him?'

Ironhide wasn't very pleased. 'Who the frag is this lunatic spouting about eye-rape and revenge?'

Optimus was outraged. 'He spoke of you, Sam. I don't like this at all.'

'Besides, what kind of _useless_ name is 'the Fallen'?' the CMO demanded. 'Prat.'

'Somebody thinks he's brilliant.' Ironhide's cannons rotated. 'Bet he isn't cannon-proof.'

'Easy, big guy.' Sam waved at him soothingly. 'There's just been a misunderstanding. They think I impregnated Starscream- but honestly, it's not true- and Megatron wasn't very happy, neither was the Fallen- _huge _big misunderstanding, think they might hold a bigger grudge against me now than before- and I mean, before it was still pretty big, what with killing Megs and all- but yeaaah.'

'What the frag did y'just say?' Jazz demanded.

Ratchet was staring, one optic ridge raised. '…I didn't realise they cared about their own.'

Sam grimaced. 'They- they were very special. Not the kind of 'care' I'd like, y'know? Quite violent and abusive and- crazy?'

The saboteur was cackling. 'Perfect blackmail. Perfect. An' Megsy too! Bonus.'

'_Jazz,_' Optimus rumbled. 'This is serious- I think.' He turned to Sam again as the small Autobot skipped off, thumbs twiddling gleefully. 'They think you did _what?_'

'Er, impregnated Starscream. The plane one,' the human added in case this made things any clearer.

'Megatron and the emaciated lunatic think you impregnated Starscream,' Optimus repeated slowly. He looked up, frowning. 'Sounds appropriately deranged. Why didn't you tell us before?'

'Because- I didn't think you'd believe me!' Sam cried. 'I still don't believe that they're all gay as- as-' An appropriate metaphor failed him as he saw Optimus' face.

Now _that_ was disturbed.

'…"_Gay"?_' the Autobot repeated.

'Yeah?'

Receiving no help from his peers, Optimus delicately manoeuvred about the subject. 'Boy, there is not a singular definition for this word.'

'No,' Sam admitted. 'There isn't.'

'…To which would you be referring?'

'The- the gay one- I mean, _gay gay_. As in-' Sam made some hand gestures, but they went unappreciated. 'Oh, just like- the male-says-corr-you're-hot-to-another-male one.'

'Excuse me?'

'When a male wants to get jiggy with another male!' Sam shouted. '_Jesus!_ You're as bad as the Decepticons!'

Ironhide crumpled to the ground.

Ratchet ventilated heavily (although it was unclear whether this was a reaction to Ironhide or the statement).

Optimus' mouth was moving but no words came forth.

'If you dare ask about 'jiggy' then I'm just going to leave,' Sam threatened. 'And- apparently they have babies they're going to kill or something.'

There was a long silence.

'_Primus_,' Optimus muttered quietly.

Ironhide's cannons swivelled as he heaved himself up. 'So that's why we're not being attacked? They're too busy fragging each other and blowing up hatchlings?'

'I always knew Megatron was different,' Optimus sighed, shaking his helm emotionally. 'But I never thought he liked mechs.'

'It's okay,' Ironhide patted him on the shoulder. 'It isn't your fault. Your father should have- have talked to him about these sorts of things. He's probably just confused.'

'What would Daddy say?' Prime burst into tears upon the thought.

'Maybe he likes both,' Sam offered tentatively, unsure what to say but devastated at the reaction he had caused.

'Nah, it explains why he wanted to massacre femmes,' Ratchet mused.

The Arcees (who had been eavesdropping) quietly rolled closer together and hugged tightly.

'Ratch, you could have been slightly more sensitive,' Ironhide frowned, glancing at them.

'They're not crying over their gender being nearly obliterated,' the CMO snorted. 'They're crying because now they know the Decepticon optic-candy isn't interested in them.'

'Who've they been eyeing up?' Sam asked, intrigued.

Optimus was sorrowfully outraged. 'Autobots have been eyeing up the enemy? This- this is horrid!' He paused. 'Have they been eyeing Megatron?'

'Whoever it is, they certainly aren't eyeing up the Fallen,' Ironhide pointed out with a bark of dry laughter. 'Jerk.'

'Pink Arcee and Starscream have had several altercations,' Ratchet winked.

Sam was slightly disturbed. 'As in like… altercations?'

'As in like 'why the Pit is she still alive' altercations,' Ironhide snorted.

'I thought he liked me!' pink Arcee wailed.

Blue Arcee rubbed her back soothingly. 'It's okay. There's still Thundercracker.'

'And Skywarp,' purple Arcee added cheerfully.

Blue Arcee gave her a withering look, causing a cringe. 'A mech with a processor and without learning difficulties, sister.'

'Point taken.'

'I have to talk to Megatron about this,' Optimus announced, just about keeping control of his nearly wavering voice.

'Why?' Sam asked incredulously. 'What will that do?'

'Wouldn't you talk to your brother about it? It's essential that we speak,' Prime decided.

'Is that such a good idea?' Ironhide frowned.

'It's brilliant,' Ratchet cackled. 'Let's watch them squirm.'

'He needs support,' the commander continued. 'And I'm not sure he will have any from his associates. I am all he has.'

* * *

_On Mars, a day later:_

'Oppy says he wants to meet up,' Megatron announced in surprise.

Starscream was massaging a sore cannon-blasted shoulder. 'I know, _esteemed_ leader. I just brought you the message.'

'Why does he want to do that? How does he even know I am alive?'

'You aren't the most discreet of mechs, my liege.'

'That's the way you like it,' the commander beamed, grabbing the smaller Decepticon in a helmlock.

'What the _frag_ are you doing,' Starscream hissed, the furious question sounding more like a weary statement.

'I feel very spontaneous today,' Megatron vaguely justified.

'Why don't you put that _spontaneity _to work by creating a strategy to defeat the Autobots? We could catch them off guard-'

'_Starscream,_' Megatron gasped, 'you do disappoint me. That would be very churlish of us! We can't just reject Optimus' thoughtful offer.'

'We're _Decepticons_,' the Seeker scowled. 'Why don't we manipulate or- or be deceitful or double-crossing or-'

'There's no reason to be rude. Shame on you,' Megatron frowned, wagging a claw in the other's face. 'I think you need to learn some manners.'

'Nooo-ooo,' Starscream whined feebly, attempting to struggle out of the helmlock. 'I don't!'

'You shall stay here whilst I go and have a chat with Optimus,' Megatron ordered, flinging the Seeker aside and striding out onto the planet's surface-

Starscream was clinging miserably onto his arm. '_Noooooooooo_.'

Megatron flicked him off and waited for elaboration.

'You are _not_ leaving me here with him,' Starscream hissed in a half-order, half-plea. '_Please_?'

'See? Lesson learned, manners found.'

It was a cheery journey to Earth, full of insults and jibing and occasional physical violence.

Everything that was cheery, really.

So it was that Megatron wasn't too bothered about the long travel-time or the fact that when they arrived at the designated location that several Autobots and a fleshpacket were waiting.

The more the merrier!

Especially in a massacre.

Nothing was _more irritating_ than getting ready for a massacre and discovering that there weren't enough victims to even constitute a body count.

Ooooh, that made Megatron mad.

The Decepticon snapped back to reality in time to see a (for some reason horrified) Optimus jab a finger at Starscream, who edged behind the silver mech.

'Why have you brought _him_?' his brother demanded.

The Seeker was offended. 'What have I done?' He glanced at Megatron sulkily. 'He's being rude. I told you we should have been rude first.'

'He is my plus one,' the Decepticon Commander explained.

'We know that all right,' Sam breathed.

Megatron was apologetic. 'I should have asked if it was appropriate, sorry- but he did give the turbopuppy optics. Is… is it all super if he stays?'

'I see,' Optimus weakly announced. 'Of course.'

Silence.

Megatron scratched his helm. 'So.'

Tense, Optimus pressed a tensely clenched fist to his tense faceplate. 'Is- is it true?'

'Is what true?' the Decepticon replied nonchalantly.

'That- that you-' Optimus couldn't quite bring himself to say it and pointed at Starscream vehemently. 'Is it?'

Megatron followed the finger, utterly confused. 'That I what?'

Starscream shuffled awkwardly. 'Did I do something?'

The Decepticon Commander growled suddenly, apparently coming to a rapid conclusion. 'I'll bet you did.'

Starscream would have paled if he could, hastily stepping back a pace or two. 'I haven't!'

'I bet you've gone and done it with him!' Megatron accused aggressively, jabbing at Optimus with dangerous claws.

The Autobot's optics widened, and he glanced at Starscream incredulously. 'Is this true?'

'What?' Starscream gasped. 'You think you'd know!'

'Damn Prime, that's low,' Megatron whistled, impressed despite his rage. 'You did it and you don't even remember? Low.'

Optimus blinked, then suddenly realised what they were talking about. 'Oh-! You mean I- you think Starscream and I-? No, no. And even if we had, I'm sure that I would recall it-'

'Hole; you're digging it,' Sam hissed.

'I certainly have not- done it with Starscream,' Prime declared, suddenly summoning his courage and deciding to kill the beast in one fell swoop. 'But the point is that you have.'

'Have I?' Megatron glanced at the Seeker uncertainly.

Now Optimus was very confused. 'Haven't you?'

Starscream looked as though he was about to cry.

'But Sam informed me that you kidnapped him on a ridiculous quest to discover who the father-'

'The boy!' Megatron raged, claws snapping together. 'He shall pay for eye-raping Starscream!'

Unobserved, Starscream shook his helm disbelievingly, rolling his optics.

'Eye-rape?' Optimus mouthed.

Starscream shrugged at him.

Sam had had enough of this confusion and madness. 'Look, Megatron- Optimus just wants to know if you do-' He closed his eyes tightly for a moment and swallowed before sacrificing the last of his sanity for the dignity of the Autobot. '-if you do gay stuff with Starscream.'

Megatron blinked at him, completely shocked out of his eye-raping boy rage. 'What is this 'gay stuff'?'

Sam gaped. 'Well- I don't know how you- how you do it!'

Starscream had long since curled up on the floor and been reduced to a humiliated triangular ball.

Megatron thought. 'What do you mean, 'do it'? I am sure the situation would be clearer if you were clearer.'

'But- but you knew what 'do it' meant just now!'

'What does this have to do with anything?' Megatron demanded. 'Explain what 'doing it' is this moment- and this 'gay stuff' too.'

'Oh god,' Sam muttered. 'I can't explain that to you. You know like-' He suddenly had inspiration. 'You know what happens when a- a mech loves a femme very much?'

After a second, Megatron nodded enthusiastically. Perhaps worryingly, so did Optimus.

Sam had to be sure they were on the right track this time- or if they weren't, then he had to ensure that any actions post-explanation couldn't be blamed on him. 'And the femme has to love the mech too. They love each other very much.'

The brothers murmured in assent.

'Nor are they related!' Sam cried hastily. 'Two unrelated, oppositely-gendered Cybertronians love each other a lot!'

Megatron raised a claw. 'Why do they love each other, boy?'

'Because- because they have lots of shared interests and stuff,' Sam blushed. 'And they find the other very pretty or handsome.'

Megatron thought about this, then shrugged. 'Fine.'

'Right, so- so they do intimate things together,' Sam blushed. 'Things they wouldn't do with anybody else.'

'Like squirt each other with cleaning solution?' Optimus asked.

Sam's mind died. (_He was so sure he hadn't lost anybody_.) 'Yes, Optimus.'

Megatron cackled. 'In the optics?'

'Ye- no! Not in the optics, you sicko!' Sam wearily wondered if he'd have to spell it out anyway. 'Okay, this isn't working.'

Both mechs were immediately contrite. 'It is, boy!'

'Apologies, boy. We shall concentrate.'

Sam rubbed his eyes resignedly. 'Right. A mech meets a femme he isn't related to.' He slapped the side of one hand into the palm of another. 'Bam.'

'Bam?' Optimus whispered.

Megatron was equally intrigued. 'Bam.'

'They fall in love.'

'Can't they be friends first?' Megatron asked.

'Yes, they can. They are friends.'

Optimus thought. 'So they are friends but aren't related? How did they meet? Could this BAM happen to anybody?'

Seeing how worried the Autobot was, Sam decided to just start again. 'A mech meets a femme he isn't related to, okay? They bump into each other in the- in the street, for example. They start talking- they're embarrassed and awkward, but they talk. They like talking to this other Cybertronian, but eventually they have to continue with their lives as you do, and they say bye.' He paused, anticipating a question- none came. The two mechs were waiting for him to continue, wide-opticed. 'The next day, they bump into each other on the same street- er, not literally. They are so pleased to see each other that they talk and talk and talk- but soon they have to leave each other, see?'

Optimus looked miserable. 'Fate can be so cruel.'

Megatron quietly patted him on the back. 'I know, Ops.'

'This continues!' Sam cried. 'Each day they meet- same time, same street- and they talk until- until they have to go! So one day, the mech is walking down the street.' He paused for dramatic emphasis. 'But the femme isn't there.'

'She isn't there?' Megatron hissed disbelievingly.

Optimus gasped, hands flying to his facemask in horror.

'Where in the Pit is she?' the silver Decepticon demanded. 'How dare she not be there!'

'Has she been killed or whisked away by a spontaneous romantic?' Optimus whispered.

'No, no. The mech realises that he misses her so bad he has to do something. So he goes door-to-door, and he describes the femme. He knocks on a hundred doors, a thousand- even nine-thousand!' Sam's hand swooped through the air. 'And he doesn't stop until he finds someone who recognises the description.'

Optimus was now quietly crying.

'And eventually- eventually he finds her house, and he knocks at the door. He's nervous- he doesn't know what he's going to say- but he does it.'

'And?' Optimus whispered.

'Well?' Megatron snapped.

Sam thought quickly. 'She answers the door, and immediately he is struck by the realisation that even though she's got a cold and she's all sniffly and her… her puffy optics are all red- no offence, Megatron- he realises that she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life. He suddenly knows that he loves her and tells her so. The love is reciprocated!' Sam cried. 'She loves him too! And it's a very happy moment and because of the love they become more than friends. They- they soon become lovers and they get married- or whichever way round you like- and they have kids and stuff.'

They all basked in the fictional happiness for a moment.

'…What was the point of this again?' Optimus asked.

'I can't remember,' Sam admitted. 'Oh, oh- gay stuff. Do you understand what I mean when I said about the mech and the femme being lovers and having kids?'

Prime nodded enthusiastically. 'They do special things. Megsy- lovers have special hugs, right?'

Megatron faceplanted dangerously into his claws. 'Yes, Optimus. Special hugs.'

'Special hugs?' Sam repeated incredulously.

'How would you explain it to your little brother?' the Decepticon hissed.

'Look, whatever. Now- sometimes a mech and a mech like each other.'

'Like Ratchet and Ironhide,' Optimus suggested. 'They're blatantly friends, however much Ratchet tries to grouch around it.'

'Yeah,' Sam quickly agreed. 'But sometimes a mech and another mech like each other- y'know, as much as the femme and the mech we talked about.'

'You mean they love each other?' Megatron asked.

'Yeah. They do. And they do stuff together.' Sam tried to gesture at them with his eyebrows, but it didn't work. 'They- they have special hugs.'

'But how?' Optimus asked, confused.

Sam died a little inside. 'They- they have slightly different special hugs, is all. And that- the different special hugs between a mech and a mech is- is gay stuff.'

'Oh,' Megatron realised at long last. 'You mean- oh.'

Sam was suspicious. 'You sure you get me?'

'You want to know if Starscream and I cuddle?' the Decepticon asked, incredulous. 'Does it look like we cuddle? We are mean killers!'

Groaning, Sam wondered if he could convince Optimus to extend his energon blade so he could impale himself on it.

'I would rather burn in the Pit than suffer this a moment longer!' Starscream suddenly howled. 'He wants to know if- if we-' The Seeker wrangled the air and broke off into a harsher sounding language for his translation before returning to English. '-you stupid fool!'

Megatron blinked, realisation finally dawning. 'Why didn't you simply ask?'

Optimus frowned. 'Because I wasn't sure how to. Awkward.'

'Why is it your business?' Megatron demanded.

'Because you're my brother, and if you do gay stuff then I have a right to know-'

'No you don't.'

'I do!'

'Why?'

'Because I simply do. Freedom and all that,' Optimus announced.

'Well,' Megatron shrugged, clearly defeated; 'when you put it like that I have to tell you. We-'

'_We don't_!' Starscream screeched dementedly.

'We don't?'

'We do not!'

Megatron scowled. 'I didn't think that was the case. What would you call it?'

'I have quite a few terminologies,' Starscream hissed vehemently. 'Would you like to hear them alphabetically or categorically?'

Megatron smacked him about the helm cheerily. 'Ahhh.'

'Alphabetically it is!' Starscream shrieked, undeterred until the silver mech rapidly forced him into a headlock and hissed something menacing into one of his audio receptors. '…_Fine_.'

Optimus' radar picked up a sentient being's right to freedom being taken away. 'What did you say, Megs?'

'…I- I er, threatened to put him on cleaning duty,' Megatron replied unconvincingly. 'The base is very messy, and the Fallen is such a slob.'

'Who is that ruffian?' Optimus demanded. 'He was very rude to me. Not only that, but he is incredibly socially inept- and he spoke threateningly of the boy.'

Megatron was astounded. 'He did? That isn't acceptable.'

'I'm glad you agree.'

'My apologies, boy. Did you feel upset by the threats?'

Sam stammered feebly. 'It's okay- I didn't really think much to them-'

Megatron laughed delightedly. 'Good on you, boy! There isn't anything much to the Fallen. Nothing at all,' he added meaningfully with a malicious cackle.

Starscream rolled his optics.

'Who is this Fallen?' Optimus enquired. 'None of us recall him from the good old orns.'

'He's just a tramp,' Megatron explained. 'He likes to hang around with us and feel included. It would break my spark to turn him away into the wilderness.'

Prime melted inside at the sheer kindness.

Megatron didn't dwell on the subject. 'Boy, I have a question. How do they know they love each other?'

Sam thought about it. 'Because- because they know they couldn't possibly think of existence without the other. And- and because it hurts when they're apart, 'kay?'

The silver mech screwed up his nasal plating. 'How pathetic.'

'Do you- love _him_?' Optimus asked tentatively.

Megatron snorted. 'Not likely; who could 'love' a wretch like that?'

'Primus, please kill me now,' Starscream quietly prayed. 'Before I self-terminate.'

'This- it doesn't change anything, right?' Megatron asked tearfully, ignoring the hapless Seeker. 'Him and I?'

Optimus shook his helm passionately. 'I'll always love you, brother!'

They hugged fiercely.

Starscream started punching himself. 'This is not happening.'

The commanders continued talking whilst clutching each other.

'We're still going to fight each other in a mechly and dignified fashion?' Megatron enquired with a sniffle.

'Wouldn't have it any other way,' Optimus ventilated shakily. 'Well, apart from the whole fighting thing which I'd rather not do but naturally we shall- brotherly love and all!'

There was a pause as the hug ended.

'Say,' Prime suddenly added, 'You won't be taking any paternity leave, will you?'

Megatron huffed. 'Of course not. I have Decepticons to command and-'

Starscream narrowed his optics. '_Why_ would he need paternity leave?'

'Of course!' Optimus cried. 'My bad, I forgot to extend my congratulations.'

An icy silence.

'Your _congratulations_,' Starscream repeated silkily. 'And what would they be for?'

'The sparklings,' Prime beamed. 'I shall be an uncle!'

'We- _we_ are not together!' the Seeker shrieked. 'You are all very deluded!'

'Ahh,' the Autobot sighed. 'Should I not know yet? Is it still-' he mouthed the words- 'in the _secret stage_?'

Megatron shrugged. 'Starscream likes to make a scene. He's my drama queen.' He cuffed the Seeker's helm fondly, only to be immediately assaulted.

'What have you been _telling_ him?' Starscream demanded, reverse-articulated legs straightening slightly in fury to achieve a better frosty glare at the commander's face.

'Nothing!' Megatron raised his claws in self-defence. 'I haven't!'

'Listen to me _very acutely_,' the Seeker ordered. 'It isn't happening. _We _aren't happening. When I awake from recharge I shall laugh about this with my trine.'

Megatron glanced at Optimus apologetically. 'I'm afraid he is a little insane. Thinks reality is a delusion.'

'Oh dear,' Prime offered. 'Can that be passed down?' He glanced at Ratchet. 'Can lunacy be passed down?'

Ratchet couldn't form a coherent response unspoiled by choking sniggers.

'Well, if there's ever a wedding, I'll be your best mech,' Optimus promised, giving the silver mech a mechly slap on the arm.

Megatron was moved. 'Appreciated, brother.'

Starscream shrieked indignantly. 'Why don't _I_ get a best mech?'

'You'd have a maid of honour,' Megatron explained.

Sam didn't even want to know how they both knew about intricacies of weddings.

The Seeker must have checked the internet, for he screeched in rage. 'I am not the bride! And even if I were I wouldn't marry you!'

'The hatchlings can't have an unstable home,' Megatron protested, dodging a crate being thrown at him. 'We must provide them with care!'

'I'll-give-you-_care_!'

'Sounds promising,' Megatron winked. 'You first.'

' _You-_' Starscream broke off in a snarl. '_You_ go first, ancient wreck, else I leave you behind to taste my vapour trail.'

Sam felt that a creepy comment could have been made here, but was very relieved that none were.

Autobots and human alike watched as the two jets-alien and familiar- shot up (practically colliding now and then), disappearing rapidly into the sky.

Optimus was quiet again. 'I don't know whether I am disturbed or shocked.'

'I think I've discovered enough about your race for one day,' Sam feebly offered.

Ratchet's helm suddenly snapped upwards.

Ironhide frowned. 'Ratch?'

'I thought I sensed something,' the medic replied slowly.

Optimus was concerned. 'You have the best sensors out of all of us. What was it?'

'Because I definitely didn't hack into any satellites earlier today, I naturally didn't just sense another presence connect to one.' Ratchet snapped his fingers, and a hologram shimmered above his luminous hand. 'This satellite footage could be rather informative.'

They watched the hologram intently as a large Transformer floated towards the machine before latching on and-

'Ahhh, Soundwave.' Ironhide's cannons rotated grimly. 'I've _missed_ that smug fragger.'

'What the _hell_ is he doing?' Sam shrieked, still watching the hologram. 'With those- _tentacles!_'

'What is the problem?' Optimus asked, extremely worried by the boy's violent reaction.

'I'm not explaining.' Sam whispered as tentacles whipped about the camera footage, thrusting their way into various locations. 'Never again.'

Was there no safety now? Was _everything _capable of becoming an innuendo? Giant robots had been safe. Satellites had been safe.

What was _next_?

* * *

**Seriously, what is next? I really hope there aren't any unexplained and ludicrous moments in Dark of the Moon because that may call for more awkward, sanity bashing chapters to be added. O~O'**


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